


Kinktober Day 18: Public

by agnikai58



Series: Just Kinktober Things [12]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, F/F, In Public, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 01:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12400692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agnikai58/pseuds/agnikai58
Summary: Zarya's performed in front of crowds before but tonight she's doing something very, very different than lifting weights. She and her partner Sombra are determined to put on the best show the two of them can muster for this particular audience.Kinktober Day 18: Public, BDSM, Exhibition/Public Scene.





	Kinktober Day 18: Public

In the middle of the city stood a small forest of buildings that towered above all the others around them. The overwhelming majority of those skyscraper's windows had gone dark, their occupants having long since departed to other areas. But there was a notable exception to be found. One skyscraper had the entirety of its topmost floor still shining brightly into the inky blackness that fell over the city when the sun vanished below the horizon.

  
  


A room that once had been used as some executives office sat on one of the building's corners. Near the very tip of that corner waited a woman with hands resting on her thighs as she knelt on the floor. A red and white singlet did nothing to conceal the corded muscles of her arms and legs as it clung tightly to her torso. Her only other article of clothing was a pair of shoes best suited for working out in a gym. As Aleksandra Zaryanova obediently waited she stared out the windows at the city in front of her. The actual name of this city was unknown to her. She didn't recognize anything out there but she knew she wasn't in Russia since the streets weren't covered in snow and ice. There weren't any clocks in the room but she could still tell what hour it was by the position of the moon, a feat that the other women sharing this room with her were doubtless incapable of.

  
  


Including her there were a half dozen women present. They shared the same gender but that was where the similarities ended. If she had been on her feet then Aleksandra would have resembled the skyscraper they were presently occupying and them the shorter buildings that surrounded it. Where her limbs were thick with muscles while theirs were slender. Her hair was trimmed short save for spikes running along the center of her head. All the other women's hair flowed like silk over slim necks and shoulders. Their skin looked like it barely been exposed to the sun while her hands bore calluses from years of hoisting steel plates. Lastly where she wore a singlet they were garbed in revealing dresses and heels meant to accentuate the ample assets that they had been born with.

  
  


They had greeted her upon arriving and introduced themselves but for the life of her Aleksandra couldn't remember a single one of their names. She had tried to make conversation with them at first but their interests were as differing as their appearances. Eventually she had resigned herself to kneeling in the corner while they gossiped among themselves about shallow nonsense that those from the West were so obsessed with.

  
  


A single knock came from the room's only door and the conversation came to a halt as it opened. Aleksandra rose to her feet and she followed the other women out into a hallway. Their escort was a man dressed in a black and white tuxedo and he had an ornately decorated mask covering his features. He stopped at a door she had originally passed on her way to the waiting room and pushed it open with a hand wearing a white glove. Without a word he waved them to enter then closed the door behind him as he followed them inside.

  
  


Along one wall stood a raised stage with curtains at its rear. Arrayed in front of the stage were a litany of love-seats and heavily padded armchairs facing towards the stage. Lastly a pair of tables bearing silver platters of food and drink stood off to one side. In addition the room they had just entered was already occupied by small knots of people engaged in conversation, perhaps thirty in total. Most of them were dressed in unwrinkled tuxedos or glittering dresses except for a few mixed in with all the rest. The six who weren't wearing fancy clothes instead were dressed in black jeans and tee shirts. However every person present was wearing a mask of some kind. All of them save the six women who had just entered.

  
  


The conversations fell silent and the waiting crowd turned towards them expectantly. The man who had led them here gestured towards the stage. As Zaryanova moved through the crowd she could feel their eyes watching. Judging, appraising. Her and all the others. One by one they climbed up onto the stage and formed a line as the crowd seated themselves on the chairs and couches save for the six dressed in black. When the last of them was seated the escort walked to one end of the line. As he moved from one woman to the next members of the crowd would lift up a hand as if voting on something. The first two women got a few votes then he was moving up next to Aleksandra and to her surprise more than half of the people there raised a hand.

  
  


One of the six figures wearing black broke away from the others and headed to the rear of the stage as the escort waved the other five women away. He inclined his head to Zaryanova and gestured at the curtain, clearly intending for her to go back behind it.

  
  


Waiting for her there was one of the six. Even if this person had been wearing a mask that covered her face it did nothing to hide the person's identity from Aleksandra. One side of her head was shaved and the black hair on the other side gradually lightened until the lower half by her shoulders was violet. Even without the obvious clue that was her hair Aleksandra would still have been able to recognize her domme. How she planted her feet, the way she held her arms even when doing nothing with him. “There are more people out there than I was expecting, Olivia.”

  
  


The woman dressed in black shook her head and gave an exaggerated sigh from behind her black and white jester's mask. “Tsk tsk, amiga. You know the rule. You're not supposed to call me that during scenes. It's Sombra and just for that I'm going to add a surprise to our plans for tonight.”

  
  


Aleksandra merely bowed her head, stoically accepting the punishment she had deliberately provoked though inwardly the thrill of an unknown punishment was making her warmer. “Please forgive the error, Sombra. There are more people out there than I was expecting.”

  
  


“Does that make you nervous? I know I said that I was expecting fifteen people to be here but sometimes the parties here are bigger than usual. Tonight must be one of those nights. Are you thinking of changing your mind about this?”

  
  


The burly Russian woman took a few slow steps towards the curtain and peeked out between its folds at the crowd waiting for her out there. “No... I'll go through with it. You just have to keep to your promise that no one will try to take me to a private room. I have no desire to use my fists to say no.”

  
  


“Of course. I keep my promises, Sandy. Now then, it's time for this.” Sombra picked up a black length of cloth and wrapped it around the Russian's face several times until there were enough layers that light couldn't penetrate through it. She wove the ends through a simple square knot on the back of her head then pulled it tight. “Give me a minute to get things ready.”

  
  


As Aleksandra slipped out of her shoes while waiting she could hear the sound of Sombra moving things around. It didn't take long before she felt a hand grabbing her by the wrist and leading her out onto the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to my slave, Sandy.”

  
  


A polite smattering of applause came from the audience before Sombra continued. “As you can no doubt tell Sandy is quite the specimen. She hails from the frozen steppes of Russia and is more suited to its bitter cold than she is to the sunny days this city is famous for. But like her fellow countrymen those harsh winters made her as strong as the great bears of Mother Russia. If she wished she could crush my skull between her hands without a second thought. But despite her great strength Sandy is my slave and does what I order.” Sombra walked around to stand behind said slave before slapping an open palm against one butt cheek, leaving a faint red outline of her fingers on it. “Kneel!”

  
  


Sandy's knees thumped down against the wooden platform, paying no mind to the impact as she placed her hands behind her head. A smaller round of applause came from the crowd but this one quickly petered out, the audience more interested in watching the show than making noise. Sombra reached into her back pocket and pulled out the pair of safety scissors she had put there. “I must apologize for my slave's lack of manners. All of you had the courtesy to wear such amazing outfits to our party and Sandy had the gall to wear... this.” Sombra waved at the singlet with one hand while slipping her fingers into the holes of the scissors handles. “Let me take care of that.”

  
  


The blades of the scissors came together to easily cut through fabric as they made a line down the side of Sandy's singlet until it had been cut clean through. Sombra grabbed the outfit and threw it to the side leaving her slave's breasts and unkempt bush completely bare to the eyes of everyone present for as long as they cared to look. “There. That's better. You should still apologize for your bad manners, Sandy.”

  
  


“I am sorry for my...” Sandy began to apologize.

  
  


“I don't think they can hear you,” interrupted Sombra. She reached around to pinch one nipple between her fingers and pulled on it, eliciting a sharp hiss from her sub. “Louder.”

  
  


“Please accept my apologies!” Sandy's accented voice boomed through the room as she shouted. “I am just a foolish slave from Russia who doesn't know any better but if you forgive me then I'm sure Sombra will make sure I learn.”

  
  


Dead silence was all that followed. Whether the crowd had picked up on what she was doing or simply not interested in participating Sombra couldn't be sure. Either way the show must go on. The other five women who hadn't been selected to go first were now walking around the room, trays of food or drink in their hands along with leather collars fastened around their necks.

  
  


“I don't think they accept your apology, Sandy. We're gonna have to convince them you're sorry.” She grabbed a handful of that pink hair and pulled on it just enough to make her sub follow her over to the prop she had set up after putting the blindfold on.

  
  


The piece of furniture in question was a chair made of entirely of metal but with foam cushioning covering all the surfaces that a person's body could touch. Its back was set at a slant and there were a pair of footrests set up higher than the seat of the chair itself. In fact were it not for the leather cuffs attached to the head of the chair and footrests the thing wouldn't entirely be out of place in the office of certain medical specialists.

  
  


Sombra guided the pink haired woman into the chair so that she was seated properly before cinching the cuffs down. Sandy's arms were stretched out above her head and her legs were spread apart, giving a full frontal view of her folds along with the much smaller hole beneath them. “Sandy may be as strong as a bear but even she can't get out of these cuffs. Why don't you show us how helpless you are, Sandy.”

  
  


Years of lifting discs of metal with every muscle group available to her had left Sandy far stronger than the average person, both man and woman. To say nothing of someone whom might end up getting put in a chair with restraints like these. If she had been able to see then the futility of her flexing her muscles against these cuffs would have been apparent. In the event that she had been in a regular bondage chair then it was entirely possible that she could muster the strength to break the cuffs her limbs were restrained by, something Sombra had found out the hard way during their first days as partners. These cuffs though had been modified however to ensure that Sandy couldn't wreck them. Small hooks had been added to the outside of the restraints and skinny but still heavy duty chains ran between those hooks to other hooks welded onto the chair's metal surface.

  
  


Sandy pulled and kicked in vain as she tested the restraints holding her before giving up. Sombra let out a small sigh of relief that no one but her noticed as she continued. “So there we have it, she's stuck. She can't escape or do anything to stop me from doing this.”

  
  


Sombra's fingers found their way to Sandy's ribs as she started tickling the restrained woman. Sandy's hips bucked as she tried to squirm away only for those fingers to move to the other side and doing it again. Sombra waited until Sandy had actually begun to giggle before addressing the crowd once more. “She might be as big and strong as a bear but even the mightiest of women have weak spots.”

  
  


Those fingers gave Sandy a moment's respite before heading south to the soles of her feet. Sandy shrieked in glee and her entire body convulsed as she tried to escape. It was a futile effort however. There was nowhere to flee to and those restraints kept her trapped on the chair as Sombra's fingers danced at random along the soles of her feet or the curves of her ribs and occasionally all the way up to Sandy's armpits.

  
  


Now that drew some laughter from the crowd. The sight of such a hulking woman wriggling so animatedly from the merest brushes of fingertips against her body. Sombra let her hands fall away then she pulled out a toy from her other back pocket and held it up. “Some of you in the front might be able to tell what this is but for those who can't see it clearly allow me to tell you that this is an oscillator.”

  
  


The base of the golden toy was shaped like a bullet but with horizontal grooves running all the way around its diameter. Lastly, the top of it had an attachment whose end was a misshapen ball with numerous tiny bubbles protruding from it on all sides already in place. Sombra lowered the toy to Sandy's clit and hit the switch to turn it on.

  
  


Almost immediately a gasp broke from the sub's mouth. A quiet low pitched sound, but one that everyone could still hear. Sandy's hands curled into fists, her fingers pressing against her palm as Sombra knelt down next to the chair so that she wasn't blocking the spectator's view. Her domme had used vibrators on her before but this was entirely different. A vibrator did just that, vibrate against you as its motor spun back and forth to make it shake. This thing... the head of the oscillator was actually moving back and forth directly against her clit itself.

  
  


Additional moans followed the first as Sombra held the toy in place, each unmelodious moan a little louder than the one preceding it. After a minute or so Sombra knew it was time. She reached up with her free hand and pulled on the knot holding the blindfold in place. The fabric slipped off and suddenly Sandy could see again.

 

In front of her were nearly three dozen people. Their faces were hidden but there was no question where every eye behind those masks was looking. Sandy's large breasts were steadily rising and falling as her lungs expanded then contracted faster and faster. Her legs were spread wide by the chair's footrests so that her now wet parts were on display for everyone to see. There was a toy actively rubbing itself against the most sensitive part of her body back and forth in a caress she was powerless to stop despite all of her strength. Finally, the removal of the blindfold was the last component she needed in order to break.

  
  


Being able to actually see what she already knew was happening in this room. Strangers whose faces she would never see, whose names she would never learn watching. Watching her squirm nakedly in front of them, listening to her moan and deriving pleasure from it. Her fingertips dug painfully into the flesh of her palms while Sandy's head swung from side to side as the surge overtook her and she was swept away to places where nothing but euphoria awaited. Her limbs instinctively pulled at their restraints as guttural shrieks filled the room.

  
  


Sombra flicked the oscillator's power switch off as she rose from her knees and bowed to the crowd. “Thank you for being a good audience and I hope you enjoyed the first part of tonight's show. I just need a minute to clean everything up so you can vote on who's next.” Her eyes flickered towards the other five women who were now making their way back to the tables with the trays they were carrying. Who _would_ be next and what would their subs do to them she wondered.

  
  


She set the oscillator back into the pocket it had come from before turning towards the chair and undoing the cuffs holding Sandy in place. Her sub rubbed at the red marks her latest bout of tugging had given her before standing on shaky legs. Sombra slipped one corded arm over her shoulders and she put an arm around Sandy's back in an attempt to try and at least keep the large woman somewhat upright.

  
  


“I did well did I not Sombra?”

  
  


“Yes. Yes, you did...” Sombra glanced back at the crowd before they disappeared behind the curtain to where an ordinary chair and change of clothes for her sub was waiting. “...Aleksandra.”

 

Zaryanova slumped down onto the chair, suddenly feeling more tired than after squatting hundreds of kilograms. “I must admit, I had many moths in stomach about public show but now I feel fine. Perhaps we do this again soon.”

  
  


“Butterflies in stomach, not moths,” corrected Sombra without thinking about it. “I'm willing to do this if you are but it'll be different next time.”

  
  


“How so?”

  
  


“As if I'd ruin the surprise.” replied Sombra, a devilish twinkle in her eyes. “But for now you have to go out and serve them food. After that we'll go before someone thinks they can buy a night with us.”

  
  


Aleksandra picked up a large bra from the top of the clothes that Sombra had placed here before the show had ever begun. “Thank you, Olivia.”

  
  


All that remained was carrying some food and then they were done for the night.

 


End file.
